The Carnival

The Carnival

❝The top point of the Ferris wheel where every young couple loved to kiss at midnight in the moonlight as it shined down into one another's eyes, driving both the lovers mad as they dove in for the opposites' plump pearly lips, enclosing the space between them until they became a whole. That only happens in movies.❞

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          I don't think you'll ever understand how much I truly cared for you. You always seemed so oblivious to everything that was going on outside of that little world that revolved around your own imagination. You would sit there for hours just listening to the sound of rain with a little static tune that played along those earphones you had placed in hours before. Your fingers would tap away at the keyboard placed along your thin, prominent legs. You would always find a way to make yourself smile.

          I think it was that little snippy memory of you doing something you shouldn't have been; playing the moment over and over again in the back of that imaginative mind you had vacated throughout that thick-skulled head of yours. Don't get me wrong, I know I loved it, but you just didn't love me. You didn't notice me as I sat in the library, a laptop shielding the face I called my own - my assuming eyes always marking their territory along the top of the screen to peek over to your tasks.

          You were intriguing. I didn't understand why you would spend your time in a library, casting a shadow along the comfortable slumped laid back evergreen coloured sofa's placed for loners and no-bodies who just loved to waste their time reading. You weren't un-popular. You were a national treasure, although no one would ever admit that.

          What I didn't understand was how you were here next to me, your hand closed under mine, our fingers entwined with one another's' as we walked along the dark, noisy gravel pavement beneath our own two feet. I looked down to your shadowing height. You were shorter next to me.

          The thunderous booming of up-beat music blasted throughout my eardrums, although I know you would never be able to hear it. The cold, small ears that belonged to you could only feel the vibrations of something worth listening to. You didn't pay attention to anything other than yourself. If it wasn't you, it wasn't worth it.

          I know, I'm describing you horribly right now, but keep in mind that I love you. You'd probably never realize that and I certainly wasn't one for my words. With your speechlessness, it didn't seem like you were one quite either.

          You spoke of silence that I never understood. Maybe it was the fact that even if you spoke, you wouldn't be able to hear the sound. Or maybe you thought you were speaking but you were never quite sure. I would never be able to ask - you would never be able to answer.

          So maybe I was an idiot for liking someone as inordinary like you. Kill me. Throw me in a cellar, lock the key and toss it in an ocean but it still wouldn't change the way I feel about you. Maybe I liked the way you always tossed your pure golden hair up in that messy bun that bounced atop of your head. The other girls at our school would be perched along an uncomfortable little cushioned chair connected to their vanity - created for pure beautification. But you would still be getting your shoes on in front of the steps of the school building where you sat early in the morning before the students began to pile in.

          I don't think you ever cared for others' opinions of yourself. You seemed mellow and humble - to everyone else that was. There were always those girls around that would give you a distasteful little glance whenever you walked by or sat down alone at a lunch table, but you didn't seem to mind. Those second glances and glares meant nothing to you.